amazement as he went through a number of motions. He must have a helicopter pilot license or he wouldn’t be able to fly, but for some reason that didn’t make me feel any better. He had a driver’s license too.
Having never been in a helicopter, I was nervous, and sitting here in the back, luxurious accommodations or not, I began to wonder what I would do if I got airsick. I looked around, didn’t see any pockets in the seats. No airsickness bags. I swallowed thickly and my mouth grew dry.
The aircraft vibrated gently, the rumble of the rotor above me, the tail rotor to the rear, both oddly soothing. Then again, I was still on terra firma. My pulse raced as he reached for the door and closed it. I closed my eyes and prayed for courage. I wasn’t what one would call particularly religious, but if there ever was a time or place for anything, this was it.
About all I knew about helicopters was that they took off vertically and could hover. They didn’t go very fast… wait, this one did. My blood raced a little faster when the RPMs kicked up and the whine of the blades sounded deeper. The shadows of the blades rotating above me passed the windows, slower, faster, then slower again.
My eyes riveted to every move Blake made, every switch, button, or dial that his strong, fingers touched, turned, or pushed, captured my complete attention. We’d been sitting in here for nearly five minutes. Was something wrong? He didn’t seem concerned, but I’d never seen anyone do a pre-flight check either. Maybe this was just all part of the process.
“You buckled in?” he asked, not turning to look back at me this time.
I quickly found the seatbelt, buckled myself in and then nodded. He didn’t see my gesture. “Yes,” I said, raising my voice above the sound of the rotor blades. The luxury seats didn’t have armrests like an airplane, so I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, my knees pressed together, my back ramrod straight. I wasn’t terrified, but I wasn’t exactly at ease either. I didn’t know what to expect. And that was the problem—
The helicopter moved, began to shift sideways, the rear of the craft pulling the vehicle to the left, like an ice skater coasting on ice. My heart thudded heavily in my chest. Was it supposed to do that? And then Blake, his hand wrapped around the stick, steered the chopper down a narrow runway, much like an airplane. We picked up speed. To my surprise, we were suddenly off the ground, not shooting straight up, but at an angle.
I held my breath as the chopper climbed to altitude. This wasn’t so bad… the helicopter wasn’t banking, at least not yet. With my hands still tightly clasped in my lap, I pulled my gaze away from Blake as he maneuvered the controls to glance out the window. San Francisco Bay spread out below as we passed over the Golden Gate Bridge.
And then we were soaring high over the landscape. My heart quit pounding and I actually felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe I could enjoy the ride—
The helicopter dipped nose down. My stomach dropped and I felt like I did when an elevator suddenly went down or up.
“What happened?” I squeaked in alarm. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing, just a little bit of turbulence.”
He spoke loudly, not turning to look at me, for which I was grateful. Better he keep his focus on the control stick and the horizon. He did a good job keeping the helicopter level, but the buffeting the wind above the bay quickly took away my sense of ease. He spoke several times into his headset, and then pretty much, no, completely ignored me.
How long did it take to fly from San Francisco to wherever it was he was headed in southern Oregon? I was glad I had eaten a light breakfast. A dry English muffin. I hadn’t wanted my stomach to rumble or feel like I had to go to the bathroom during the initial meeting with Blake. I had a nervous bladder as it was.
I wasn’t feeling sick to my stomach or anything, but who knows what
Having never been in a helicopter, I was nervous, and sitting here in the back, luxurious accommodations or not, I began to wonder what I would do if I got airsick. I looked around, didn’t see any pockets in the seats. No airsickness bags. I swallowed thickly and my mouth grew dry.
The aircraft vibrated gently, the rumble of the rotor above me, the tail rotor to the rear, both oddly soothing. Then again, I was still on terra firma. My pulse raced as he reached for the door and closed it. I closed my eyes and prayed for courage. I wasn’t what one would call particularly religious, but if there ever was a time or place for anything, this was it.
About all I knew about helicopters was that they took off vertically and could hover. They didn’t go very fast… wait, this one did. My blood raced a little faster when the RPMs kicked up and the whine of the blades sounded deeper. The shadows of the blades rotating above me passed the windows, slower, faster, then slower again.
My eyes riveted to every move Blake made, every switch, button, or dial that his strong, fingers touched, turned, or pushed, captured my complete attention. We’d been sitting in here for nearly five minutes. Was something wrong? He didn’t seem concerned, but I’d never seen anyone do a pre-flight check either. Maybe this was just all part of the process.
“You buckled in?” he asked, not turning to look back at me this time.
I quickly found the seatbelt, buckled myself in and then nodded. He didn’t see my gesture. “Yes,” I said, raising my voice above the sound of the rotor blades. The luxury seats didn’t have armrests like an airplane, so I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, my knees pressed together, my back ramrod straight. I wasn’t terrified, but I wasn’t exactly at ease either. I didn’t know what to expect. And that was the problem—
The helicopter moved, began to shift sideways, the rear of the craft pulling the vehicle to the left, like an ice skater coasting on ice. My heart thudded heavily in my chest. Was it supposed to do that? And then Blake, his hand wrapped around the stick, steered the chopper down a narrow runway, much like an airplane. We picked up speed. To my surprise, we were suddenly off the ground, not shooting straight up, but at an angle.
I held my breath as the chopper climbed to altitude. This wasn’t so bad… the helicopter wasn’t banking, at least not yet. With my hands still tightly clasped in my lap, I pulled my gaze away from Blake as he maneuvered the controls to glance out the window. San Francisco Bay spread out below as we passed over the Golden Gate Bridge.
And then we were soaring high over the landscape. My heart quit pounding and I actually felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe I could enjoy the ride—
The helicopter dipped nose down. My stomach dropped and I felt like I did when an elevator suddenly went down or up.
“What happened?” I squeaked in alarm. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing, just a little bit of turbulence.”
He spoke loudly, not turning to look at me, for which I was grateful. Better he keep his focus on the control stick and the horizon. He did a good job keeping the helicopter level, but the buffeting the wind above the bay quickly took away my sense of ease. He spoke several times into his headset, and then pretty much, no, completely ignored me.
How long did it take to fly from San Francisco to wherever it was he was headed in southern Oregon? I was glad I had eaten a light breakfast. A dry English muffin. I hadn’t wanted my stomach to rumble or feel like I had to go to the bathroom during the initial meeting with Blake. I had a nervous bladder as it was.
I wasn’t feeling sick to my stomach or anything, but who knows what
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